


Perfect

by galwaygirl



Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Angst, Based on a song, Canon Universe, Fluff, Guilt, I totally butchered the song, M/M, No happy end, Page 250 Rewrite, Songfic, Sorry Ed, author feels guilty too, because this is gay, just ignore the pronouns and stuff, sometimes, then it gets sad again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-07
Updated: 2017-03-07
Packaged: 2018-09-30 17:00:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10167638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galwaygirl/pseuds/galwaygirl
Summary: Thomas won't ever forget NewtSongFic for Perfect - Ed Sheeran





	

**Author's Note:**

> Someone else already posted something for that song, but I thought whatever because this is the longest thing I ever wrote. I took some things from the books/movies, they are written in **bold.** Especially in the page 250 rewrite, because I didn't like taking too much away from it.
> 
> Also, english isn't my first language so if you see any errors, which you probably will, don't hesistate to tell me.
> 
> Listen to Perfect by Ed Sheeran (and all his other songs, you won't regret it!)

_I found a love for me_  
_Darling, just dive right in and follow my lead_  
_Well, I found a girl, beautiful and sweet_  
_Oh, I never knew you were the someone waiting for me_

There was a boy. Thomas remembered him clearly. He had blond hair and brown eyes and light skin and a smile that made the whole room light up. He was tall and slender, but strong. Thomas catched himelf staring at him more than he'd like to admit. He was beautiful. His hair laying messy upon his head, glowing golden. At chilly mornings, when Thomas was still half asleep, he sometimes thought he might be an angel. And maybe he was. His eyes were dark brown and sad, always so sad, but when he laughed... God, when he laughed. His eyes would get a few shades lighter, they would shine and gleam with joy. It was the most perfect thing Thomas ever laid his eyes upon. The boy would radiate with happiness, and Thomas was drawn to it like a moth to a flame.

He was kind and protective of the people he cared about. He had a big heart and a sweet tooth. Thomas remembered that. It was rare that they got any sweets, but he would get as much as he could and ate it way too fast. The next day he complained about a terrible stomach ache. The boy always knew what to say to make Thomas feel better. When Thomas doubted himself, he would always be there. He would tell him all the things he needed to hear, but he would also never lie to him. He was the only one who always believed in him. They trusted each other. With their secrets, their fears, their lifes. 

The boy held him when he cried, when he missed his mom, his freedom, his memories. And Thomas, in return, held the boy. He was strong, but even the strongest people fall apart sometimes. He was in pain, he suffered, and Thomas could never do enough to fix him. He could never be enough. But he would always remember Newt.

_'Cause we were just kids when we fell in love_  
_Not knowing what it was_  
_I will not give you up this time_  
_And in your eyes, you're holding mine_

They were twelve years old. Or, Thomas would be twelve in a few days. He thought it counted. He woke up to someone shaking him, and when he opened his eyes he stared directly into Newt's dark brown ones. It was a funnc feeling, the world stilled for a second. It was just them, and Thomas wanted to live in this very moment forever. He forgot about the other boys shouting loudly, trowing half hearted insults at each other, about his responsibilities today and tomorrow and every day after that, until they found a cure, about the terrible, cruel world around them. It was just Thomas and this beautiful, smart boy who was smiling at him and saying something that Thomas couldn't quite catch because he was so busy staring. Then he remembered where he was and who this boy was supposed to be: His best friend. He excused himself, said he was still half asleep and the blond laughed. Thomas couldn't shake the empty feeling off for the rest of the day and the boy's laugh echoed in his head for a lot longer than it should. There must be something wrong with him. He wasn't good enough, anyway.

Thomas remembered that day, at fifteen, lying in bed next to the blond boy. Neither of them were asleep, they just spent time together in comfortable silence. It will be the last time for a very long while. The trials were about to start. Thomas felt like crying, but he didn't, because Newt wasn't crying. He was smiling. He was smiling at Thomas and then he said the most beautiful words Thomas never knew he wanted to hear. And it wasn't 'I love you' or 'I need you' or 'I miss you'. It was 'I trust you'. It was a promise. Thomas didn't know what to say, so he kissed him. Slow, passionate, full of all the things he couldn't say out loud. They kissed and Thomas' heart was beating out of his chest, his fingers tingled where he stroked the boys cheek, ran his hand trough the blond mess that was Newt's hair. He felt his hís eyes burning with tears he refused to shed. They both knew what this meant. This wasn't the end. This wasn't goodbye for good. They would make it work, someday, somehow. But it could be enough.

_Baby, I'm dancing in the dark with you between my arms_  
_Barefoot on the grass, listening to our favourite song_  
_When you said you looked a mess, I whispered underneath my breath_  
_But you heard it, darling, you look perfect tonight_

Thomas was drunk. He was drunk on the disgusting alcohol he couldn't stop drinking, drunk on his pride of being a runner, drunk on the laughter that could be heard everywhere around the Glade and drunk on the feeling of the boy's lips on his. The kiss was sloppy, they couldn't stop giggling and Thomas' hand somehow always managed to drop a little low. It happened again and Newt threw his head back, laughing loud and no doubt exaggerated happy. Thomas was stunned by his beauty. He slid from his lap and stood up and Thomas couldn't stop himself from pouting, which made Newt laugh even harder and double over, holding his stomach. Thomas started giggling too and soon they were laughing hard, lying on the soft grass and every time one looked at the other they had to laugh all over again until their stomachs and sides hurt and they laid wheezing on the ground. Thomas didn't remember, but this felt like the happiest he's ever been. 

He was so caught up in his newfound happiness, that at first he didn't register the offered hand shoved in his face. He grabbed it and the boy helped him up. Thomas lost his balance for a second, bumping against the blond, but he didn't mind. They smiled at each other. The Glade had quieted down, the big bonfire was barely burning anymore and suddenly they were the only people in the entire world. Thomas was okay with that. He leaned his forhead against the blond's and circled his arms around his waist, pulling him closer. The boy in front of him smiled softly and put his arms around his neck. It was nice. Thomas liked the warm feeling Newt gave him, the small fire he ignited in his stomach. He angled his head so that he could give Newt a soft, short kiss and then started swaying slightly. Neither of them knew how to dance, and there was no real music, but Thomas decided it didn't matter and the blond's quiet laugh was his favorite song, anyway. He savoured this moment, promised himself that no matter what happened, he would never forget this. The cold grass under his bare feet, the alcohol buzzing in his head, the boy in his arms, burying his head in Thomas' shoulder, his hair smelling like daisies and lavender and home. Newt whispered something, so quiet Thomas almost didn't catch it. Almost. „We're a mess.“, he said. Thomas didn't disagree. They were a mess. But so perfect. „It's perfect.“, he said. 'You're perfect', he didn't say. But it was more than enough.

_Well I found a woman, stronger than anyone I know_  
_She shares my dreams, I hope that someday I'll share her home_  
_I found a love, to carry more than just my secrets_  
_To carry love, to carry children of our own_

The scorch was a nightmare. It was unbearingly hot, then it got freezing cold and Thomas' body was always on the edge of just giving up. They didn't have enought water, or food, or clothing, or hope to pass around. Thomas failed them. All of them. It was his fault they were here. Because he wanted to play the hero. But Thomas was no hero. He was a failure. Thomas flinched when someone sat down next to him and when his head snapped up, it was him. Of course it was him, it always was. Tired, bruised and bloody and he still looked beautiful, like an angel. He attempted a smile, but, according to the sad look on the others face, failed miserably. „Want some? Looks like ya need it.“ Thomas eyed the water bottle, then shook his head. He did need water, but he wouldn't take it away from anyone else, especially not him. 

„I'm sorry.“, he whispered. He didn't mean for Newt to hear it, but he did. „Nothin' to be sorry for.“ Thomas almost laughed. He had a list of things he was sorry for ready. It was a long list. He settled with **„I'm the reason we are stuck out here.“** The boy frowned, as if Thomas saying that personally offended him. **„You're the reason we're free.“** Thomas sighed. He wished it would be that easy. He might have led them out of the maze, but was the scorch really better? Yeah, they were free. For now. But Thomas doubted that freedom was really worth all the pain they were in now. Back in the glade, they at least knew what to expect. But the scorch? It was unpredictable. By their luck, a sandstorm was going to swallow them up in their sleep. There was also the problem that he had no idea where they were, and if there was some sanctuary for them, somewhere. He thought about this for a moment, looking at the blond boy next to him. If the world could just be black and white, good and evil. That would make everything a lot simpler. 

**„I don't know where we're going.“** , he finally admitted and looked away. **„We're lost.“** There was no weight lifted from his shoulders. He couldn't breathe easier. Thomas was just so very tired. **„We have been lost before.“** He didn't know why Newt still tried to make him feel better, but he was thankful for it. It also made him feel incredibly guilty. **„Yeah, not like this.“** This was Thomas' fault, his alone, and it wouldn't be fair if he didn't feel guilty about it. He didn't deserve the kind words. He didn't deserve this boy at all. **„There is a place for us, out there somewhere.“** Thomas was about to reply, but he didn't get the chance. **„I don't know where it is. But I do know that a lot of our friends have died for us to get this far.“** He looked up and was met with the other boy's determined stare. Thomas didn't forget that. He remembered all of them, he always will. **„So we can't give up.“** A hand grabbed his and squeezed lightly. There was a lump in Thomas' throat and his heart felt heavy in his chest. **„You can't give up. I won't let you.“** Newt smiled at him and Thomas smiled back. It didn't feel that forced anymore. The hand holding his didn't let go, and the other one came up running through his hair. Sand fell out and trickled down his face and Thomas actually huffed out something like a laugh. It seemed to please the other boy, who kept playing with his hair, tugging softly at the strands. Thomas hummed in enjoyment and laid his head on the blonds shoulder. He was tired. But for now, this was enough.

_We are still kids, but we're so in love_  
_Fighting against all odds_  
_I know we'll be alright this time_  
_Darling, just hold my hand_  
_Be my girl, I'll be your man_  
_I see my future in your eyes_

He almost didn't recognize him. The boy he loved looked like he was barely a shadow of his old self. His clothes were torn, dirty and full of blood. Thomas wasn't sure whos blood it was. His hair was matted, pieces had been torn out. It hurt Thomas to see him like this. He should have never let him go. He could protect him. He just had to come with them now. Thomas stepped slowly closer, careful not to frighten him. He felt terrible for approaching him like a wild animal, but he didn't know how far gone he was. 

„Hey.“, he whispered softly. Newt looked up at him and Thomas' heart broke into tenthousands of tiny pieces, toring him apart from the inside. He felt tears welling up and his hands were shaking. There was a raging madness in the boy's eyes. Thomas swallowed. „Hey.“, he said again, his voice shaky. **„It's me, Thomas. You still remember me, right?“** Thomas waited for an answer for agonizing ten seconds. **A sudden clarity then filled Newt's eyes, almost making Thomas step back in surprise. „I bloody remember you, Tommy. You just came to see me at the palace, rubbed it in that you ignored my note. I can't go completely crazy in a few days.“** It hurt Thomas, him saying that. He was the one who always, always believed in him. Now even this beautiful boy full of hope and kindness seemed to have given up. It made something inside Thomas angry and he was even more determined to help him, save him. 

He took another step closer and the blond watched him with suspicion. Thomas thought he might didn't trust him anymore, then dismissed the thought. He had to. They always had each others back and Thomas would trust him until his very last breath. **„Newt, come with me this time, right now. We can take you somewhere safe, somewhere better to...“ Newt laughed, and when he did his head twitched strangely a couple of times. „Get out of here, Tommy. Get away.“** Thomas would have nothing of that. He could take him somewhere safe and protect him until they found a cure. Everything would work out for them, he was sure of that. „You remember the first time I ran into the maze? You didn't want to let me go, screamed at me not to do it.“ Thomas had no idea what he was doing, but he refused to just let him go like this. „Now I'm here and I tell you not to do it and to come with me. Please. **Just come with me.“, Thomas begged.**

 **„Just shut up, you shuck traitor! Didn't you read my note? You can't do one last, lousy thing for me? Gotta be the hero, like always? I hate you! I always hated you!“ He doesn't mean it, Thomas told himself firmly.** The insanity in his eyes was burning like the bonfires back in the glade, deeper than the oceans they never got to see. Thomas couldn't stop the tears anymore, running hot down his face. He was so helpless. Why wouldn't he just come with him? He thinks he might have said his name, might have told him something else that could convince him to leave with Thomas. He was barely aware of anything anymore. **„It was all your fault!“** The world around him was spinning, his whole body was trembling. **Newt's face had colored to a deep red, and spit flew from his mouth as he yelled. He started taking lumbering steps forward, his hands balled into fists.** Thomas' ears were roaring. This had to stop. **„Listen to me.“** , he tried to say, but his voice sounded weird and maybe he didn't say it at all. **„I know you're okay in there. Enough to hear me out.“ „I hate you, Tommy!“** Stop. Please stop. **„I hate you I hate you I hate you!“** Thomas was sobbing now and it terrified him. Why couldn't he ever be the strong one? Why couldn't he save the people he loved? **„After all I did to you, after all the freaking klunk I went through in the bloody maze, you can't do the one and only thing I ever asked you to do!“** Thomas couldn't. He couldn't kill him. „Stop!“ He couldn't do this anymore. **„Give me a chance.“**

 **Newt screamed and rushed forward. He tackled him to the ground, knocking the breath out of him** and Thomas didn't even try to stop him as **he climbed on top of him and pinned him down. „I should rip your eyes out!“, he said, spraying Thomas with spit. „Teach you a lesson in stupidity. Why'd you come here? You expected a bloody hug? Huh? A nice sit-down to talk about the good times in the Glade?“ Thomas shook his head, gripped by terror, very slowly reaching for his gun with his free hand.**

 **„You wanna know why I have this limp, Tommy? Did I ever tell you? No, I don't think I did.“** Thomas said nothing, knowing he didn't want to hear it and going to have to listen anyway. **„I tried to kill myself in the Maze. Climbed halfway up on these bloody walls and jumped right off.“** Thomas was trembling with pain, with fear, with guilt. **„I hated the place, Tommy. I hated every second of every day. And it was all... your... fault!“ He suddenly twisted around and grabbed Thomas by the hand holding the gun. He yanked it toward himself, forcing it up until the end of it was pressed against his own forhead. „Now make amends! Kill me before I become one of those cannibal monsters! Kill me! I trusted you with the note! No one else. Now do it!“ Thomas tried to pull his hand away, but Newt was too strong.** „I can't!“, he cried. „I can't!“ He swallowed down another sob, looking up at the boy who used to look back full of love and trust. Now he looked at him with pure hatred. **„Kill me you shuck coward! Prove you can do the right thing. Put me out of my misery.“**  
**The words horrified Thomas. „Maybe we can–“**  
**„Shut up! Just shut up! I trusted you! Now do it!“**  
**„I can't!“**  
**„Do it!“**  
**„I can't!“** How could he possibly kill the boy he loved? He would die for him, but how could he kill him?  
**„Kill me or I'll kill you! Kill me! Do it!“**  
**„Newt...“**  
**„Do it before I become one of them!“**  
**„I...“**  
**„KILL ME!“ And then Newt's eyes cleared, as if he'd gained one last trembling gasp of sanity, and his voice softened. „Please, Tommy. Please.“**

**With his heart falling into a black abyss, Thomas pulled the trigger.**

He was never enough to save him.  


_Baby, I'm dancing in the dark, with you between my arms_  
_Barefoot on the grass, listening to our favorite song_  
_When I saw you in that dress, looking so beautiful/em ><_  
_I don't deserve this, darling, you look perfect tonight_

Thomas was dreaming. He was sure he was dreaming, because Newt was there. He looked amazing, healthy. Thomas smiled at him. „Hi!“ And Newt smiled back. „Hey there. What'cha doin' here?“ Thomas looked around. They were back in the Glade. The moon was shining above them, there was the sound of grievers running through the maze and it all felt so real, that for a second Thomas thought everything else was a dream and this was reality. 

But then Newt smiled sadly at him. „It ain't real.“ „No kidding.“ Thomas rolled his eyes for emphasis. It was never that easy. The blond stepped closer, slowly at first, then faster and then they were hugging, Thomas holding him so tight he was afraid he would hurt him. „I'm sorry.“, he whispered. He was about to cry again and how pathetic would it be to start crying in a dream, because of a dream? „It's alright.“ „I'm so sorry.“ „Quit it.“ Thomas nodded in Newt's hair, pressing a kiss on top of it. „I love you.“, he said instead and felt Newt relax against him. „I know, Tommy.“ „I'm really in shucking love with you.“ „Why does it still sound ridicolous when you use Glader slang, I wonder.“ Thomas snorted. „Do ya want me to talk like this? Bloody hell.“, he mocked in his best british accent, which was still terrible. Newt pulled away a little and made a disgusted face, and Thomas laughed. It felt like the first time he ever did, and it kind of was. At least in a very long time. 

„Can't we just stay here? Forever?“ Newt shook his head. „You're not done yet.“ Thomas wasn't so sure about that. He didn't know what else he could do now. He wasn't their leader anymore, Minho took that place and he was doing a damn good job at it. Paradise held nothing for him. There were parties and people were making friends and more than friends and Thomas just couldn't. It felt so utterly wrong and alien to him. All he wanted was Newt. „Don't give up, Tommy.“ The boy stepped out of his embrace and Thomas sighed. „I'm not. I just wish you were here. With me. You belong here, Newt. You're probably the only one who really belongs here, who deserves that.“ He rubbed his eyes, refusing to cry. 

„There is no point in regretting the past.“, Newt told him and laid both his hands on Thomas' cheeks, gently wiping away the tears who had escaped. „You can't change what happened to you. Or to me. All of us. But you can still change the future.“ He sounded so hopeful. This was how he wanted to remember Newt. Not the crank on the side of the street. Newt was kind and full of hope, Thomas wouldn't take it from him now. „Changing the future it is.“

_Baby, I'm dancing in the dark, with you between my arms_  
_Barefoot on the grass, listening to our favorite song_  
_I have faith in what I see_  
_Now I know I have met an angel in person_  
_And she looks perfect_  
_I don't deserve this_  
_You look perfect tonight_

There was a garden in paradise. Of course there was, they had to grow food, but that wasn't why Thomas insisted to work there. No one could know, but it was the only way he could still feel close to Newt. Thomas didn't dare looking at the note, though he kept it in his bedside table. He didn't need to, anyway. These words were forever branded in his mind. Looking at them would just hurt him even more. 

It was nice. They had tomatoes and peas, radish, cucumbers, beans, lettuce and potatoes. Thomas didn't even know what else, but he liked taking care of them all and liked knowing that he was still useful. It was a good feeling, helped to keep him grounded and gave him a reason to keep going. If not for himself, then for the others. But what Thomas liked most about the garden were the flowers.

He remembers vividly how much Newt loved flowers. How his eyes were shining whenever he got to talk about them, when he explained what they needed to grow the most beautiful and which were his favorites. Thomas always listened closely, excited to learn every little detail about Newt. And when Thomas arrived in paradise, not knowing what came next and what he was supposed to do, the flowers stuck with him. He ignored the pitying look Minho gave him when he asked about the garden and got to work.

Newts favorite flowers were daffodils, so these were the first ones Thomas planted. Hydrangeas, Peonies, Sunflowers, Poppies and Roses soon followed, and the garden was blooming in the most beautiful colors. It was amazing, how alive it made Thomas feel. There wasn't much these days that made him feel this way. So Thomas took care of the flowers and the food every day, from sunrise to sunset, and everyone would agree that it was getting better. Thomas would smile at people when they greeted him or talk to the children about the flowers, allowing them to make crowns out of them. Paradise looked a little more like a paradise with every single day.

At night, when everyone was asleep and the only sounds that could be heard were the waves crashing on the beach, Thomas went back to the garden, the grass dewy under his bare feet and the air chilly. Not every night, just on bad ones. That was often enough. Thomas didn't scream himself awake anymore, but his violent sobbing could wake someone else, so he left. Then the garden became his very own paradise, his sanctuary. He thought it would get easier, with enough time and enough smiles. But every day was just as hard as the one before and there was no change in sight. It terrified him. He was afraid of feeling this way for the rest of his life, suffering every day, reliving his memories over and over again. He was afraid that he thought he deserved it. Thomas tried to face what he did. He tried and tried and tried. 

But the more he tried, the clearer he saw it: He didn't deserve to be alive. 

Paradise was their safe haven, it was made to give them a place to live in peace. Thomas never brought them peace. He brought them pain, destruction and death. He fell to his knees, burying his face in his hands. The people here tolerated him because they thought they owed him that. For saving them. But he didn't save anyone, did he? He couldn't save anyone because Thomas was made to kill. That was what WICKED always wanted him to do, so it was exactly what Thomas did. He killed anyone who stood in his way, called it a 'neccessary sacrifice', just to find a cure. And he failed. All the people he killed died for nothing. Chuck and Teresa thought he was worth the sacrifice, but they died for nothing. Newt died- No. Thomas killed Newt. Why did Newt have to die? Thomas didn't understand, and maybe that was the worst about his whole situation. Why? Why did Teresa think she had to betray him and still sacrificed herself in the end? Why did WICKED try to justify their methods? Why did Newt have to die and Thomas had to live? Not knowing almost tore him apart. 

Thomas stifled a sob and looked up at his flowers. His vision was blurry and the moon was his only source of light, but he was able to make out the only flowers he was reluctant about planting. Daisies and Lavender. When he closed his eyes and focused on the smell only, it was almost as if Newt was still there. As if he was still by his side, laying a hand on his shoulder and telling him it would be alright. But Thomas wasn't alright. He wanted this to be enough, wanted to make Paradise his home, but deep down Thomas knew it couldn't ever be.

His home was gone, and the only thing left was the smell of daisies and lavender and his memory of Newt.


End file.
